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Every bound brought him closer to his prey, and Hybrid was certainly one known to pursue his prey to the end. He was determined and capable; this was a deadly combination for the pale wolf. Hybrid loped behind her, refusing to let his pride overtake him when she was well within his reach. While he was certain he could probably fall back a bit, he did not want to let her think even for a moment that he was giving up or getting tired. She was his and he wanted her to know it.
Hybrid’s teeth met his mark, pulling his opponent to her knees. She tumbled forward, surging into the sand face first. The smell of blood rose was in the air: a familiar, welcome scent for the coyote. As soon as she touched the ground, Hybrid was upon her. Unfortunately, he moved too quickly and Bris caught him in the chest with her back leg. Hybrid gasped in surprise as he had all of the wind knocked out of him. The force of her kick threw him back two metres, where he then landed awkwardly on his shoulder, rolling over his back and coming to a stop. Hybrid pulled himself to his feet, wincing at the pain that suddenly flared up in his shoulder. Oh, this girl had some fight in her – but it was still new. By the time he was through with her, she would be a weeping mess.
Hybrid bounded toward his prey again, trying to make up for lost time with sheer determination. He could see that Bris had taken advantage of her last-ditch attack and was pulling herself up with her arms alone. Hybrid moved quickly, running toward his prey. When he was close enough, he launched himself at her back, intending to grab a hold of her shoulders with his claws and take her throat in his teeth.